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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27302551">A Series of Glorious Possibilities</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twice_before_Friday/pseuds/Twice_before_Friday'>Twice_before_Friday</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October? No, I think you mean Whumptober [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Prodigal Son (TV 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Blood and Injury, Gen, Left for Dead, Major Character Injury, Whump</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-31</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 19:27:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>1,381</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27302551</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twice_before_Friday/pseuds/Twice_before_Friday</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt No 31. TODAY’S SPECIAL: TORTURE<br/>Experiment | Whipped | <span class="u">Left for Dead</span></p>
<p>For nearly a decade, the presumption that he'd be murdered by a suspect didn't even bother him. It was fitting, really. A serial killer brought him into this world and it seemed almost poetic that a serial killer would take him out. Back then, when he was with the FBI, he didn't really have much to live for, so the thought of dying didn't really bother him.</p>
<p>But now…</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gil Arroyo &amp; Malcolm Bright, Malcolm Bright &amp; Dani Powell</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>October? No, I think you mean Whumptober [31]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1947595</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>92</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Whumptober 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>A Series of Glorious Possibilities</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Holy crap. This is it! 31 days of whump!!</p>
<p>I'm a little shocked and a little proud and so, so grateful for all of you that went on this journey with me! I've never done anything like this before and for those of you the commented and left kudos along the way, please know that you are all the reason that I was able to finish this ❤</p>
<p>Hopefully this last fic will be a good way to close things out.</p>
<p>Love to all of you!!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>He always assumed he'd die on the job.</p>
<p>For nearly a decade, the presumption that he'd be murdered by a suspect didn't even bother him. It was fitting, really. A serial killer brought him into this world and it seemed almost poetic that a serial killer would take him out. Back then, when he was with the FBI, he didn't really have much to live for, so the thought of dying didn't really bother him.</p>
<p>But now…</p>
<p>Now he has so much to live for. Since coming back to New York, he's re-forged a relationship with his mother and sister, reconnected and strengthened his bond with Gil, and built unyielding friendships with Dani, JT, and Edrisa.</p>
<p>Consulting with the NYPD has given him a reason to get out of bed in the morning, but these people — family, both blood and chosen — give him a reason to live.</p>
<p>So when a lead he's following sees him chasing their suspect through a vast warehouse only to be caught completely unaware by an unknown accomplice, he's not actually surprised that this is how he's going to go out. He <em>is</em> surprised by just how sad the idea leaves him.</p>
<p>The blade — the same blade responsible for fourteen deaths that they know of — slides across his throat like a hot knife through butter, parting skin and cartilage without a trace of hesitation.</p>
<p>His hands fly up to his throat as the killer (<em>his</em> killer, a little voice in his head whispers mournfully) tosses him to the ground. The man looks down at him with a vicious gleam in his eye and then turns and runs towards the sound of his partner's voice, leaving Malcolm to die, alone, on the cold concrete floor.</p>
<p>If the tidal wave of pain and panic hadn't already triggered a flood of tears, he would have shed a drop or two for the fact that everything was ending now, when life was just becoming worthwhile.</p>
<p>He doesn't want to die.</p>
<p>He wants to see Ainsley become the news correspondent that she's worked so hard to become. He wants to watch Jessica enjoy her hard-won social victory after years of clawing tooth and nail to shake off the sludge that Martin left her submerged in.</p>
<p>He wants to go to another Yankees game with Gil, just to see the way the man lights up when his team pitches a no-hitter.</p>
<p>He wants to strengthen and explore his friendships with JT and Edrisa. Both of those unlikely relationships started off rocky but developed into something he's never experienced before — a true fellowship based on respect and admiration.</p>
<p>And Dani. Well.</p>
<p>There's a lot of things he would have liked to have explored with Dani.</p>
<p>The thought of leaving behind the people he loves hurts more than the gash that's gaping his throat in a cruel mockery of a second mouth.</p>
<p>He's gripping the wound tightly, trying to stem the flow of blood but it's spilling hot and sticky over his hands and between his fingers. He tries not to focus on the disturbingly pleasant warmth over his rapidly cooling hands when the thought makes his stomach churn and rebel inside of him.</p>
<p>Instead he tries to push himself up, a nearly impossible feat without letting go of the pressure on his throat. He manages to get to his knees, but the blood loss leaves him so dizzy that he sways in place as his vision turns splotchy, and the concrete floor rushes up to meet him. In a matter of seconds, he finds himself splayed out flat on the ground, staining the floor a vivid crimson.</p>
<p>As he watches the pool expand beneath him, one thing in his life full of lies and repressed memories and more questions than he could ever hope to find answers to becomes blindingly, achingly clear: he wants to live.</p>
<p>But he doesn’t think he has a say in the matter.</p>
<p>He rolls onto his side and grips his throat again, closing his eyes against the excruciating pain, so he doesn't see Gil running towards him at a full sprint. He hears him though. Hears the downright panic that suffuses his voice.</p>
<p>"Bright!" Gil's shout is enough to make him force his eyelids open, but he almost wishes he hadn't. The absolute terror that's shining in the man's eyes as he drops to his knees next to Malcolm makes his heart stop, and he wants nothing more than to make sure Gil never has that look on his face again. "Call an ambulance!"</p>
<p>Malcolm is vaguely aware of a commotion around him, but he can't even muster up the energy to keep his eyes open, let alone look up to see what's happening.</p>
<p>He <em>does</em> feel Gil's hands replace his own when his arms become too tired to keep applying pressure, a nightmarish perversion of the comforting touch the man has been offering for the last two decades.</p>
<p>"Hold on, Bright," Gil cries as he keeps a firm but gentle hold on the wound. "You keep fighting, kid, you hear me? Don't you dare give up on me."</p>
<p>The pain in Gil's voice is what keeps him from giving up the battle as a lost cause. He fights the darkness that comes to claim him with everything he has in him, because he owes Gil that much.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, as always, the darkness is stronger than he is.</p>
<p>He tries to apologize as he feels himself losing the fight, but the words won't come, refusing to pass the ruins of his throat.</p>
<p>His last thoughts are of his family and friends, praying for long and peaceful lives for them all, thankful that they'll have each other to lean on as they deal with yet another loss in their lives.</p>
<p>Thankful that he had them in his life at all.</p>
<p>~~~</p>
<p>It's the light that wakes him; soft and warm and settling on him like a blanket. The unmistakable feel of sunlight streaming through a window.</p>
<p>He blinks his eyes open, immediately recognizing his surroundings as a hospital. It takes a second longer for him to piece together why he's there.</p>
<p>Gil is standing near the door talking to Dani in hushed tones that Malcolm can just barely make out — apparently both of the killers were apprehended and JT is booking them now — but the man notices almost immediately when Malcolm opens his eyes.</p>
<p>"Hey there, city boy," Gil's warm voice floats quietly through the room. Gil and Dani both walk towards his bed, but when he tries to turn his head to follow the movement, a piercing pain in his throat — like the blade is slicing through all over again — reminds him why he's there In the first place. "Don't try to talk yet, kid. At least not until the doctors come."</p>
<p>"Bright, you need to keep still," Dani adds with a tired smile and a comforting hand on his arm. The brave front she puts on does nothing to conceal the puffiness under her eyes or the red rims that line them. "You have about a thousand stitches in your throat and you don't want to pull any of them."</p>
<p>He thinks back to his time in the warehouse, to the absolute certainty he felt that his life was ending.</p>
<p>And yet, somehow, he's still breathing.</p>
<p>He doesn't realize he's crying until the tears slip down the sides of his face and pool in his ears.</p>
<p>"Hey, you okay, kid?" Gil says, reaching out to thumb away the tears with one hand and take Malcolm's hand with the other. There's a matching redness in Gil's eyes, too, and Malcolm wonders just how close he came to meeting his maker for Dani and Gil to be so worried. "Are you in a lot of pain? We can get a doctor to up your dosage of painkillers.”</p>
<p>Malcolm offers the tiniest shake of his head. The thing is, despite the pain — and there <em>is</em> pain; quite a lot of it, if he's being honest with himself — it's happy tears streaking his cheeks right now. All the things that he truly believed he'd never get a chance to see, to do, are once again a series of glorious possibilities laid out before him.</p>
<p>And he doesn't intend to waste this second chance.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>And a final big thanks to KateSamantha for not only proof-reading all of these for me, but specifically for suggesting a "slit throat and left for dead" fic to close things out. I think it was a good little finale for this challenge.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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